


Shadow

by LadyLienDa



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Platonic VLD Week 2017, Season/Series 03, helpful Hunk, sleep/nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 14:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12559816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLienDa/pseuds/LadyLienDa
Summary: Lance is struggling to accept the changes occurring within the team and his role as a paladin. Giving up Blue to Allura was a hard blow because, once again, he feels like he's stuck in someone else's shadow.Written for Platonic VLD Week 2017





	Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place directly after the events of S3E6.  
> Also, it references my OC, Hope. If you haven't read my Purpose series, I'd suggest you do that! It's not critical to know who she is for this fic, but she will be appearing in some of my later Platonic Week one-shots.

Lance woke with a start, cold sweat dripping down his face. He panicked, feeling the darkness of the room closing in on him like a heavy blanket or curtain. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was. Flashes of the dream he’d had raced to the front of his mind, blurring into reality. He looked wildly around the small, dark room, the glowing yellow eyes from his dream still branded onto his vision, as if he’d really seen them. He closed his eyes, but that didn’t stop the images. His mouth tasted thick, and was still sore from the spicy tacos they’d had for supper. Reaching to the wall on his left, he fumbled blindly for the switch he knew was there, keeping his eyes closed against the sudden flare of light. Like a miniature sun, the lamp in his ceiling blazed to life, chasing away whatever shadows had been lurking at the corners of his room.

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Lance untwisted his legs from the sheets, pulled his eye mask off from where it had slipped and fallen around his neck, and swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. Was it worth trying to go back to sleep? The remnants of the dream he’d had were still fresh in his mind. And what time was it? There was a clock above his door, but it was in Altean, and Lance had never bothered to learn how to read it.

Deciding a change of scenery might be a good idea, he found his blue robe and blue lion-shaped slippers and shuffled out of his room and down the dark hallway, hoping the faint hissing of the door wouldn’t wake anyone up.

 He wandered the castle for some time, not really caring where he was going. Finally making his way to the bridge, he stopped for a moment and just stared, awestruck, at the glorious array of stars and galaxies he could see out the main window. The window in the bridge was dome-shaped, and rather reminded Lance of the planetarium back at the Garrison. The stars were all wildly different than the ones he’d studied there, of course, and he wondered what his professors might think if they could see him now. Lance, the oddball, ever trying to break free from Keith’s shadow, was now directly involved in a plot that would determine the fate of the known universe. Even the thought of that made his head spin.

“Guess you never know what’ll happen, do you?” He said aloud, chuckling a little. In the empty silence, his voice sounded so small, reminding him he was only one person in a very big world.

 _What good can I do?_ He thought. It was alright that they’d gotten Shiro back. It took an immense strain off his mind, and it felt like an invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders. But sooner or later, Shiro would be back at full strength, which meant things would go back to the way they were. Or would they? Once she’d gotten her bearings, Allura had quickly caught up to the others in terms of teamwork, and her already incredible fighting skills had been honed even more. Lance felt rather like he had back at the Garrison: overshadowed by someone greater.

He sighed, hugging his blue robe closer around his shoulders. He missed his lion. Allura and Blue made a good team, no doubt about that. And Lance was even beginning to feel comfortable with Red. But Red wasn’t the same. He missed Blue’s calm, steady presence in his mind. Red was too quick, too impulsive, too much like Keith.

 _First it was Keith, now it’s Allura._ He thought. _Will I ever be more than just a shadow?_

That brought his dream back to the forefront of his mind. Now that he thought about it, it didn’t really make much sense, but it felt real while he was experiencing it. He’d been with the team on a mission, and the Galra had swarmed the room and quickly overwhelmed the group. Lance had fought valiantly, but as more Galra poured into the room, he found himself beginning to panic. He’d cried out to his friends for help, but they just stood there on the sidelines, watching him. The Galra continued their attack, somehow only paying attention to Lance and leaving everyone else alone.

“Guys, help!” He’d screamed, but their faces were like stone.

“If you were as good as Keith, you’d do just fine.” Said Allura, but she sounded like his old flight instructor from the Garrison, one who’d constantly picked on him, reminding him he’d only gotten this far because Keith had washed out.

Hunk spoke next, but his voice was that of Commander Iverson. “Do I have to remind you you’re only here because of a lucky fluke?”

“Now you’re just dead weight.” Said Pidge, an eerie chill to her voice that sent shivers down Lance’s spine.

“Might as well toss out the nonessential weight.” Said Keith callously.

“No!” Lance shouted over the sea of purple skin, gray armor, and poisonous yellow eyes. “Wait, guys! I’m one of you! I’m part of Voltron!”

“Are you?” Came a voice behind him, and he turned to find himself face-to-face with Zarkon. That was what had finally woken him.

 _Maybe there was a grain of truth in that dream_. He thought, plopping down into the red pilot’s chair. It was the same shape and size as the blue one, but Lance could feel a difference somehow. It wasn’t _his_.

Lance knew he shouldn’t be reading too deeply into a dream – it was a _dream,_ after all, but he couldn’t help it. It was just where he was at right now. Even Hope had progressed from insecure wallflower to butt-kicking fighter pilot in just a few short months. The more Lance thought about his teammates, the more useless and frustrated he felt.

There was a hissing sound as the door opened behind him. The sound was not a loud one, but in the empty stillness, it sounded like thunder. Lance leaped off the chair and whirled around, his shot nerves sending his heart beating wildly. The figure silhouetted in the doorway was tall and bulky. Hunk. It was only Hunk.

Lance let out a huge sigh and flopped back down in the pilot’s chair as Hunk entered the bridge and came up to him.

“Lance?” He asked, his voice rougher and coarser than usual. “That you?”

“Yeah.” Lance replied lamely, rubbing his eyes. Hunk came around to stand directly in front of the chair. He was wearing his yellow pajamas and matching slippers. He looked a bit groggy, but otherwise coherent.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” Lance said. “You?”

Hunk raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. “We’ve been friends since junior high.” He said. “I can tell when you’re upset. The fact that you’re awake at this hour is telling enough.”

“What time is it?” Lance wondered.

“In earth hours, it would be about 2 AM. Not sure exactly what that means in Altean, and not that it matters much when we’re in space, but still…”

He trailed off, finally plopping down onto the floor in front of Lance’s chair with a grunt.

“So what’s up?”

He had that look that wasn’t quite scary – Hunk was rarely scary, if ever, but it was dead serious, and Lance knew he had no choice but to tell. He kicked his heels a bit and shifted in the chair before answering.

“I had a bad dream.” He said.

Hunk chuckled. “Same here, actually.”

“Did yours involve Commander Iverson and a pack of angry Galra?”

Hunk stopped chuckling. “No, but it did have a bunch of food goo chasing me. I woke up before it caught me, though."

Lance chuckled this time. “Man, why is it always food with you?”

"Hey!” Hunk protested. “I still think that time the kitchen attacked me was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced this whole time!”

“Wish I could say the same.” Lance muttered, becoming serious again.

“You want to talk about it?”

Hunk had that serious look again, but it was coupled with a look of sympathy. “Look,” he said, “I know we’ve all been through a lot the past few months, what with Shiro being gone, most of us in new lions…” his gaze flicked to the red markings on the chair Lance was sitting in. “It’s been tough, I know. But there’s no reason to shoulder it all yourself."

“I’m just afraid, I guess.” Said Lance, fiddling with the tie on his robe. “With Shiro back, everything has a chance to back to the way it was. But what if Allura doesn’t want to give up the Blue lion? What if Blue doesn’t want me back? What if I’m not meant to be a paladin at all?"

It was a sign of their friendship that Hunk didn’t immediately dismiss Lance’s concerns as nonsense, or start affirming his identity as a paladin. Rather, he simply sat there and listened, eyes and ears trained on the other boy.

“I talked to Keith, and he told me not to worry about it. But I can’t help it. Allura’s progressed so far as a paladin, even in such a short time. I feel like I can never measure up.”

“You’re feeling like you’re under her shadow, the same way you did with Keith.” Hunk said insightfully.

Lance nodded. “No matter what I do, I can’t seem to be anything but a shadow. A shadow of someone greater. It’s even worse now that Hope is getting to do all these cool stealth missions, and stuff. I just feel so average. Like I’m only here by mistake.”

Hunk nodded. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” He said quietly. “It makes sense. You felt the same way back at the Garrison.”

“First it was Keith, now it’s pretty much everyone else. I feel like a seventh wheel. Even an eighth, if you count Coran.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you your feelings aren’t valid.” Said Hunk simply. “But we’ve all been under stress lately. Shiro’s absence has affected everyone differently. I wish I could tell you I had all the answers, but I don’t. I’m just trying to do my best to save the universe.” He paused for a moment, shifting his weight on the cold metal floor. “That’s all any of us can do. Our best.”

“Kinda hard to do my best when I don’t know what I’m doing.” Lance muttered bitterly.

“Yeah.” Hunk conceded. “But I encourage you to just remember we’re all in a bit of a churn right now. I honestly have no idea what to say other than that.”

Lance kicked his heels again and stared at the floor. With a grunt, Hunk heaved himself off the ground and went to stand in front of Lance’s chair, his arms wide.

“Come here.” He said, and Lance stood to let himself be enveloped by Hunk’s warm, safe arms.

“Thanks, man.” He said when they broke apart. “Guess I feel a bit better. Night always has a weird way of changing your thoughts. Things seem bigger than they are.”

Hunk smiled and idly scratched the back of his head.  “And you do realize that spicy food sometimes makes us have weird dreams, right?”

Lance stared. “I thought that was just a stupid superstition.” When Hunk shook his head, he actually laughed a little. “Well, that would explain both our dreams. I’m just surprised the others aren’t up. You know how badly Shiro sleeps.”

“Yeah, but he’s still recovering.” Said Hunk. “Anyway, don’t tell Hope. It was her idea to put those spices in the taco meat. She'll feel bad if she knew we were having bad dreams because of them.”

“They certainly tasted good.” Said Lance, remembering how well they resembled the tacos his mama used to make when he was a kid.

They stood there looking out the window at the stars for a few minutes before Hunk punched his shoulder gently.

“Well, it’s late.” He said. “Let’s try and salvage whatever sleep we can. Who knows where Coran will send us tomorrow?”

“Thanks, Hunk. You’re the best.”

“I try.”


End file.
